woes would come as soon as he departed;
but I hoped to have the raft ready for a movement by that time.

Supper was not on the table, and I went into the store to see if the
mail was ready. Mr. Barkspear was there, engaged in telling Captain
Fishley that his good-for-nothing "help" had run away and left him.

"Hev you seen anything of Sim Gwynn?" said Mr. Barkspear, turning to me
as I entered the store.

That was a hard question, and I decided not to pay any attention to it.
I asked Ham if the mail was ready to go, and was hastening out to the
barn to harness Darky, when Captain Fishley called me back.

"Are you deaf, Buck?" demanded he, sharply, and with that ugly look he
had worn since our troubles began.

"Not much," I replied.

"Mr. Barkspear asked you if you had seen Sim Gwynn. Why don't you answer
him?"

"I would rather not answer him," I replied; for, whatever other faults I
had, I felt above lying and stealing.

"That means, I s'pose, that you have seen him," added Barkspear, in that
peculiar whining tone which always indicates a mean, stingy man.

I made no reply, for I had no idea of betraying Sim, on the one hand, or
of lying, on the other.

"Why don't you speak, Buck?" growled the captain.

"I have seen him, and he has run away. That's all I have to say about
it."

"I didn't think your boy would try to kiver him up. Sim hadn't any
business to run away, jest when he was gittin' big enough to be some
help to me about the farm."

"I would have run away if I had been in his place," I ventured to
remark, perhaps foolishly, for I could not bear to see Barkspear
assuming to be an injured man, when his own meanness had driven poor Sim
from his home.

"I allus took care on him, and sent him to school every winter, when
there warn't much to do; and it's shameful for him to treat me so. He
hain't got no gratitude in him."

"Did you have any trouble with him?" asked the captain.

"Well, we did hev a little yesterday mornin'. He stole some things out
of the house, and I licked him for't," replied Barkspear, rather
sheepishly.

"He ought to be licked if he stole," said Captain Fishley, glancing
sternly at me; "or if he didn't behave himself, and be respectful to his
employers."

"What did he steal, Mr. Barkspear?" I asked, indignantly.

"Well, he stole some things out of the buttery."

"Yes, sir! That's just what he stole--something to eat! He didn't have
breakfast enough to keep his stomach fro